


Berenike's Hair

by taichara



Category: Robotech/Voltron
Genre: Alternate Universe, Worldbuilding, Worldbuilding: Worlds That May Have Been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 04:07:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Worlds that may have been, a world that could have been -- and a world that wasn'tquiteleft as unchanged as Haggar intimated to Lotor.  Maybe it's all the same thing?





	Berenike's Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



> A Robotech/Voltron fic without the Robotech part, for which I apologize, oops? But this particular could-have-been leapt out at me all at the once --

Lotor glowered at the viewscreen and its mocking, mutely transcribed message and heartily wished the glass would shatter under the sheer force of his thwarted frustrations. Arus was mocking him now -- _Allura_ was mocking him -- he was sure of it. And, yet ...

_I need to know._

Just a taste. That was what the damned witch hissed into his face, gloating, smug when he was just (just!) Prince once again; that all he'd seen, and all he'd experienced, was nothing more than a mirage brought on by a comet. A taste. Possibilities. A world that never was, or a future unlikely to happen -- maybe. 

_Unless I make it happen, of course._

Not that he had any idea how to summon a bizarre warship from Earth -- some Earth, a different Earth, than the one that actually seated the Alliance headquarters -- just for starters, and that "taste" gave him a throne while taking away his real prize somehow.

And now that prize just contacted him directly, under a round score layers of encryption, calling him to Arus on the pretext that someone on that planet -- _'that should belong to the Empire!'_ \-- wanted, no, _needed_ , to meet with him face to face. Only him, and with no tricks.

It sounded like a trap so childish he'd laughed himself sick on first reading. Really, did Allura think he was that much of a fool?

And, yet.

Yet it was so strange, and so unexpected, to hear from Allura at all -- and he knew the damned Voltron pilots, and Allura, and their allies experienced the same warping he had -- that laughter gave way to curiosity, and then to frustrated anger. It _had_ to be a trap ...

And, yet.

_I need to know --_

Arus' princess and her devoted followers would maybe, at most, incarcerate him if it all went south; they'd never kill him, and one timed message left behind on Doom was all he'd need to leave in order to bring fire and death down on what was left of Arus if she turned on him.

If it turned out to be nothing, either he'd teach a quick, bloody lesson about mockery and kick Arus' dirt from his boots, or the planet would be razed. If it was _something_ , then all the better for his own ambitions -- and he'd have one more potential move to make against his father.

_I will know._

-*-

Every sensor, satellite and laser turret Arus could bring to bear trained itself on the sleek, dark Drule craft that came streaking in, landing itself neatly on the makeshift airstrip alongside the Castle of Lions.

Arusian militia stood waiting, plasma rifles ready, as that craft swung a wing-like door skyward and a lone figure came striding out nearly as quickly as the hatch extended its steps --

"This is a bad idea, Princess."

Keith, standing honour guard at Allura's right hand, hardly seemed to twitch as Lotor approached, but she heard his murmur nearly as clearly as if he'd screamed it into her ear. Her response was equally controlled, and even more stubborn.

"It might be just the 'idea' we need to stop all this, Commander. Now hush."

Before Keith could answer, Allura strode towards Lotor, head high, ignoring his smirk and leaving Black's pilot to hide his startlement while he made up the lost ground. She was already answering the Drule prince's mocking bow with a slight bow of her own.

"I won't stand on ceremony, Lotor. Everything you need to know is waiting in the Grand Hall with our guest."

\-- And, with as much briskness as she'd just known Keith, she was off again, this time directly towards the Castle's imposing front gate. Nonplussed, Lotor was actually off-guard enough to glance towards Keith questioningly; but Keith shook his head and gestured at the Princess' rapidly-retreating back.

"I don't have all the details, and if I told you I'd never hear the end of it. Come on -- and don't try anything stupid, Lotor, today's weird enough as it is."

"As if there's much you could do to me on your own, _Commander._ "

... And, yet, a prickle danced, ominously, down Lotor's spine as Allura turned on her heel to stare at them both, silent and -- impatient? 

Lotor chose to ignore the Voltron pilot's annoying presence for the time being. Loping after Allura, he amused himself with idle thoughts of how he could gain the upper hand despite his tactical disadvantage ...

-*-

... And all thought of tactics, underhandedness and skulduggery drained from his thoughts like acid eating through his veins the moment -- the very moment -- Lotor stepped across the threshold and into the Hall.

There, ahead of him -- and Allura, and the Black Lion's pilot, but Keith was still no concern -- stood only two others. Maybe the other Voltron pilots were lurking, maybe not. It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered, _no one_ could ever matter other than the woman standing there watching him -- hands to her mouth, shock and pain and ... hope? was that hope? ... in tired blue eyes -- and now suddenly rushing towards him, ignoring Coran's oath and dodging his grasp to race the length of the Hall, golden hair flying --

 _How?!_

\-- He was surging forward before his frozen thoughts stuttered through the word. Surging forward and seizing Lora, his mother -- _'Mother!!'_ \-- in an all-crushing embrace and --

And it didn't _matter_ how.

-*-

"... Is he ...?"

Eeling close to Allura -- who was, what felt like an eternity later, still watching the impossible reunion -- Keith leaned in to whisper in her ear as quietly as he could. So quietly, in fact, that he was still sure he could hear something else he thought was impossible ...

... Because he was dead certain he could hear, muffled through hair and fabric, Lotor _crying_.

Allura's only response at first was to hold a finger to her mouth, but she relented a moment later. 

"Yes. Shh.

"The comet left a gift, let's not waste it by ruining the moment."


End file.
